


Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow

by TheLostSister



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Jopper, joyce deserves some happy screams, some feelings, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22762228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostSister/pseuds/TheLostSister
Summary: Murray and Joyce set off to Russia to extract Hopper from prison.
Relationships: Joyce Byers & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> That season 4 teaser sent me with all the Jopper feels, even though I also have a horrible feeling about everything at the same time. Such is life in this fandom I suppose 🙃

Exhausted wasn’t the right word to begin to describe how Joyce was feeling. Her freshly showered hair dripped down her back as she sat on the hotel bed waiting for Hopper to exit the shower too. He let her shower first as she’d been covered in dried blood spatter despite the fact that he was the one who didn’t have the luxury of having a proper shower in literally months.

Once the plan was set into motion, it had taken less time than she’d expected to get Hopper free.

Only a few days.

An incredibly long, stressful, and highly emotional, couple of days. Joyce had some idea of what sort of condition he was in since they’d seen a grainy photo of him as proof that he was alive a few months prior to the plan being officially launched.

There were only a few complications, one of which resulted in the blood spatter that had dotted her clothing and hair.

And though Joyce’s heart nearly exploded in joy when she heard that they had successfully escaped the prison with Hopper, it was almost as if she didn’t want to get her hopes up too soon. As much as she had tried to prepare, when the armored BTR-152 pulled up to the base where she had been anxiously waiting and Hopper stepped out, she completely lost her breath. Murray had just told him to get out of the vehicle, not once mentioning that Joyce had been involved in any of this too.

As if Hopper couldn’t believe it either, he approached her slowly, simply collecting her in his arms when he finally reached her.

“What the hell are you doing here,” he muttered into her hair, holding on to her so tight.

It still wasn’t tight enough to keep her from absolutely falling apart. She sobbed so hard in his arms that she couldn’t even speak. Time seemed to move in slow motion, unsure how long they stood there before Murray popped his head out of the armored vehicle and called for the two of them to get back in.

“Lovebirds! We still need to move. Let’s go!!” he yelled in typical Murray fashion.

Hopper cradled an arm around her shoulders and directed her back to the safety of the personal carrier and off they went.

If time was moving in slow motion at first, it was like the next few hours were a complete blur of events on fast-forward from one base and vehicle to the next, the men around them still very concerned and aware that they were not completely out of danger yet.

The two stayed next to each other the entire time, hands clasped tightly in one another’s, only letting go when they absolutely had to. Each mode of transportation was rather loud, and the two didn’t speak much, other than when Hopper finally gathered the courage to ask about El. The nerves in his voice were evident when he spoke, and it broke Joyce’s heart. This entire time he hadn’t even known whether or not El was alive and safe. Of course, he knew that the gate was closed that night so long ago, but her safety was never officially confirmed to him. He wasn’t a religious person, but it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t prayed a time or two over this year for her safety.

“She’s fine. I mean, she _will_ be,” Joyce promised softly. None of this had been very easy on her either.

“Thank you,” he sighed heavily. His fingers squeezed hers a little tighter and he laid his head back against the seat. It was as if a visible weight was lifted off his shoulders, and despite all he’d been through, it was this simple fact that calmed him the most.

Being so completely ramped up on adrenaline over the past few hours, the fact that she was absolutely frozen to her core hadn’t hit Joyce until the final car ride back to the hotel. She was visibly shivering and instead of holding her hand while they rode in the car, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him in attempt to warm her up.

Hopper trying to make sure _she_ was comfortable was utterly ridiculous. He’d just spent a year in absolutely horrible conditions, and here he was, comforting her.

Hopper, of course, wouldn’t have had it any other way…other than maybe not having Joyce involved in any of this at all.

She truthfully should have stayed home while this went down. In fact, Murray and multiple officials had practically begged her to. They couldn’t guarantee anyone’s safety, especially not that of a tiny woman.

But she knew she couldn’t just sit at home while this happened. Hopper never would have given up on her, even if that was what was best for him.

Her only second thoughts came as she hugged her three children goodbye, explaining that she didn’t know how long she would be gone for. That was when the guilt over her choice really hit her.

…but none of that mattered now.

Hopper was safe and she was safe. And in a few days, they would all be back home together.

Joyce heard the water in the shower turn off, and a few minutes later, Hopper stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I uh, don’t really have any clean clothes,” he had realized in the bathroom. He wasn’t about to put back on the clothes that he’d been wearing for months, so the towel would have to suffice for now.

“I’m sure Murray can get you some when he comes back,” Joyce smiled coming across the floor to stand next to him. Murray had left the two of them alone in the hotel room while he made plans for their departure out of the country.

Joyce stood close to him, having to stop herself from reaching out to touch his chest. Hopper looked drastically different from when she’d last saw him. His hair was buzzed to be quite short and he’d lost a lot of weight. She hated thinking about why that was, and though she stopped herself from touching him, she still couldn’t keep from staring at him for just a little too long.

_God, she wanted to pin him to the wall and kiss him._

She silently berated herself for even thinking about something like that when he’d only just gotten back from literally going through absolute hell for months. He was probably exhausted… and all she could think about was how bad she wanted him on top of her.

However, her desire wasn’t completely off base.

The adrenaline was still strong for Hopper, and throughout those longs nights that he spent alone wondering how his family was doing, he promised himself that if he ever got a second chance with them, he wasn’t going to blow it again.

But perhaps coming on to Joyce just a few hours after they were reunited was a little too forward.

“Jim,” Joyce said softly breaking the silence. She couldn’t resist anymore, and she dropped her hand down his bare arm, wrapping her hand around his fingers. Her voice was soft and pleading, yet he heard a bit of hesitation.

“Joyce,” he returned, his eyes meeting hers with a gentle smile.

She held on to both of his hands, still in awe that he was really standing here in front of her. Her fingers squeezed his when she finally asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded immediately in dismissal. He could hear the pain in her voice, and he hated it. Plus, it wasn’t a complete lie. He did feel okay right now, and he really didn’t want to talk about any of that. She had worried enough, and anyway, it was all over now.

“I missed you so much.” Her voice was just a low whisper, and when she said it, she dropped his hands and stepped closer to him, both of her hands moving to his bare torso instead.

When his eyes finally met hers, there was nothing more that needed to be said; it was clear now that their desperation was mutual.

Hopper bent down and pressed his lips to hers, the first real kiss they’d shared since they were teenagers. Joyce always remembered the way he’d tasted of tobacco and whiskey that night long ago, a stark contrast to the sharp mint from the toothpaste on his lips now. Her fingertips ghosted the skin of his bare back and she tentatively pressed herself to him. She understood if he couldn’t do this right now after everything he’d gone through, but she silently hoped that he would be willing to try.

However when her body pressed against his, Hopper immediately apologized with a low, “I’m sorry.” He pulled back from her and let out a frustrated breath of a sigh. His now, very obvious, erection had brushed up against her, the towel doing an extremely poor job at even attempting to conceal it. All that from just one touch…

“It’s okay,” she smiled and shook her head, pulling him back to her.

“I really didn’t mean for it to be like _this_ ,” he emphasized, turning away to stop her from getting too close to him.

“We don’t have to,” she agreed quietly. She leaned her head against his bare back and wrapped her arms around him instead. “But it doesn’t have to be…” She paused and sighed. “This can be whatever we want it to be now,” she tried again.

They were long past all the games.

Being separated with the possibility of never again seeing the one that you love can really change a person.

He dropped his head low and finally let out a quiet sigh of a “yeah,” in agreement.

“Then just tell me what you want,” she whispered, holding him tightly in her arms so that he couldn’t run away from her again.

He let out another sigh and turned around.

“I want you, Joyce. You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he admitted after a moment, brushing her damp hair from her face. “But I just want it to be perfect. You _deserve_ this to be perfect.”

She felt a lump in her throat, one that threatened to send hot tears down her cheeks again just like earlier when her emotions were too overwhelming to do anything more than cry.

“It’s never going to be perfect. But this feels pretty close,” she admitted.

He shook his head in disagreement. “But you deserve so much more. You deserve flowers and nice wine and a _real_ date. You deserve a night where I’m dressed in slightly more than just a towel…and one where I’m not assaulting you with a raging hard on that could probably only last about 2 minutes at the most,” he joked at his expense in classic Hopper style.

“Who said I need any of that?” She managed to smile anyway.

“You deserve that,” he stressed again. “You are more than just a one time fuck in a hotel room.” He let out a heavy sigh.

“I know. And you are too,” she promised.

Joyce took his hands and led him to the edge of her bed. She sat him down making it so their height difference was no longer so pronounced. She took his head in her hands and kissed him with slightly more vigor than before, sweeping her tongue over his equally as hungry mouth. Even though they had the rest of their lives together, it suddenly felt very important to be close to each other, to feel his skin against hers, _right now._

And Hopper only had so much resolve which was quickly crumbling. 

Joyce stepped back from him briefly and pulled her shirt off, her pants quickly following behind. Her sudden, feral need, frankly surprised her. Hopper’s eyes raked over her as she reached behind and unhooked her bra with a slightly shaky hand. She hooked her thumbs in her underwear and slid them down her thighs, lifting her legs slightly to kick them off her feet.

His mouth dropped open and he let out a groan, a mix of desire and disbelief. Joyce was so beautiful in her clothes, and now in only a matter of seconds, she was standing in front of him completely naked.

She didn’t give him much time to admire anything. Instead, she straddled his legs, and he moved back on the bed just enough for her to plant her knees on either side of his, her pelvis pressing up against his strained erection. They were both already nearly panting just in anticipation.

With a flick of her hand, she let his towel fall open against the bed. Her hands slid between the two of them, one wrapping around his length, sliding up and down…once, twice. And thank God, that’s all because he involuntarily thrusted against her, sucking in a sharp inhale of her name in warning. He _really_ wasn’t going to last long.

“It’s um, it’s been a _really_ long time…” he lamely stressed again anyway.

She nodded sweetly, taking his face in her hands.

“I know. Me too,” she agreed.

Not wasting any more time, she lifted herself and dragged him through her equally as aroused folds, lubricating him. She braced her hands on his shoulders and pressed her hips down on to him slowly, pleasure and a sweet pain rushing through as he completely filled her. Joyce was so deliciously tight that it was almost overwhelmingly blinding.

She let out a cry, her fingers digging into the skin of his back as she sank a little lower until her thighs finally pressed against his.

_Yes, they were in a hotel, and one with pretty thin walls._

_And yes, Murray could arrive back at any moment._

_And no, Joyce did not care one bit._

Her body had been starved for this, for _him,_ for far too long. She had shoved the hunger for Hopper deep into her subconscious where it only surfaced in her dreams. It was as if it had all built up to this, all her frustration, anger, fear, and guilt, broke down to now join forces with her arousal.

Joyce’s gaze was almost ravenous with a certain loss of control as she rolled her hips up and down, effectively riding him- so slick, hot, and tight.

She didn’t hear the guttural sounds they were both making, and she was utterly unaware of Hopper’s heavy breathing or how sweaty they both already were. He watched Joyce riding and rocking on top of him in delight, not attempting to slow her down or control her movements in any way. However, he realized their two seconds of foreplay was probably not going to cut it for her and reached down to rub her clit in some desperate attempt to at least get her close to the edge before he completely lost all control too.

His other hand roamed her body, stroking her tender skin that almost felt like it was on fire. He did his best to remain unimaginably passive, even allowing sharp and somewhat painful memories from the past few months to creep into his thoughts if only to fight his own climax until she was fully satisfied. It wasn’t long before her movements became slightly more frantic. Her eyes pressed closed, and emotions she never knew she possessed, rippled through her.

Hopper sensed her distress, and his hands framed her face, forcing her to slow and look at him. She was completely unprepared for the emotional impact his blue eyes could have on her. It was as if they were looking into each other’s souls, all their secrets, their pain, and their _love_ that they didn’t even try to hide anymore were on full display for each other. His strong jaw was clenched, and her mouth found his once more, not even kissing his slightly swollen lips, but instead just pressing her mouth desperately to his.

Never in her life had she experienced such a powerful, nearly black out, orgasm like the one that came over her. Her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders, sure that she was going to leave marks on him, as she cried out again and again in relief. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear Hopper groaning too, though he somehow managed to hold it all together for this long.

Joyce was still panting when she lifted her hips off him, leaving him agonizingly hard and practically thrusting into the air where her body had been just a moment ago. A low whimper escaped his lips and Joyce smiled. She climbed on the bed behind him, her fingers trailing over the skin of his shoulders causing him to tremble in need. She laid down and spread her legs open for him.

She knew that Hopper hadn’t finished yet, but after her release, she also realized how badly she still wanted to feel him on top of her.

She needed to feel his power.

She longed for his weight to crush her, if only to know that he was really here.

That he was safe.

That they were both finally safe.

He settled in between her legs and though she was fully satisfied, she let out another moan when he thrust into her again. He tried to return to a slower pace than what she had set just a few moments ago, but desire won out and he sank impossibly deep, thrusting raggedly into her. His orgasm was just seconds away.

Joyce wrapped a leg around his, and her fingertips stroked the short hair on the back of his head.

“That’s it, Jim” she breathed in soft encouragement. She wanted him to let go of everything he’d been holding on to these past few months, Hell, years, if they were being honest with each other.

And he did. Her voice was enough to send him shuddering over the edge, enormous waves of pleasure rocking his body and mind. He stayed on top of her for a few moments, enough to catch his breath, before laying down next to her, completely spent.

It was all too much and somehow not enough.

Hopper smoothed her still wet hair from her face and placed a kiss on her forehead.

It was a simple gesture of affection, but that’s what finally broke her.

A heart-wrenching sob ripped out of her throat and Hopper’s arms immediately wrapped around her, holding her protectively close. All the loneliness and despair, all the guilt and fear, that she’d kept bottled up for so long finally came pouring out in an unstoppable, guttural cry. Joyce knew that falling in love wasn’t supposed to hurt so much and it certainly was never supposed to be this scary.

Through these past few years, Hopper had always been there for her without question, even when she was mourning the loss of someone else that she thought she loved. Through it all, he always treated her with a sort of protective respect, and she’d been so stupid not tell him how much she appreciated it.

Hopper whispered soothing words, and stroked her skin, attempting to comfort her overwrought senses, despite his own tears that threatened to slip out of eyes now too. It was almost too much for either of their fragile states to handle.

“I love you, Joyce,” he murmured when her tears started to slow. “Now seems like a pretty cliché, shitty, time to tell you, and I swear, I’m not just saying it because of what we just did.” He paused before he repeated, “I love you so much.” The last sentence came out quieter, like it was something that he’d agonized over, something that almost pained him to say out loud… like he was bracing himself for rejection.

As if she could ever do that after everything they’d gone through.

She sat up a little and pressed her lips fiercely against his. “I love you,” she whispered back, though it felt like it still wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

Despite Joyce’s feelings of inadequacy, Hopper smiled at her words, and it was as if he started breathing a little easier now. Their mutual anxiety slowly melted away. Hopper pulled the corner of the blanket up over Joyce’s shoulders, and she laid down against his chest. He wrapped his warm arms tightly around her and they both closed their eyes.

No, it would never be perfect, but as exhaustion took over, this felt damn near close enough. It wasn’t long before they both fell into a comfortable sleep wrapped up in the safety of each other’s arms.

 _Joyce…hey, Joyce…_ she heard someone calling.

Joyce let out a soft groan and pried her eyes open only to see Murray standing next to the bed.

“Good morning, Lovebird,” he smiled down at her.

Joyce blinked slowly, attempting to understand where she was. She realized immediately that she was far too cold to have just been wrapped up in Hopper’s arms. Despite her sudden, growing dread, she looked over to the other side of her bed anyway, and it all hit her.

The other side of the bed was just as empty as when her and Murray had arrived at the Russian hotel room the night before.

This was all just a dream.

A fucking wonderful, and now, almost equally as horrible, dream.

She felt utterly exhausted even though she’d just woken up, and there was still a familiar throb between her legs, almost torturously teasing her as if to say, _you thought this was real. You thought it could really be like that…_

And now Murray was looking at her suspiciously.

_Please say she wasn’t as vocal here as she had been in that dream…_

Joyce stretched her legs out and yawned, cautiously asking, “I wasn’t like…talking in my sleep or anything last night, was I?”

“No, no talking.” He had turned around and was now digging through his suitcase. “I’d call it more like… moaning,” he smirked with a casual shrug before returning to his task.

_Oh my God, **no**. _

When Joyce didn’t respond, he turned back around to see her with a surprisingly guilty and maybe slightly embarrassed expression on her face.

“I’m KIDDING, Byers. You slept as quiet as a little mouse,” he finally said.

_Sometimes this man really drove her crazy._

Even if she had been making any noises, he had gotten up about a half an hour ago to shower, and the radiator, which had kicked on now, was so loud that he wouldn’t have been able to really hear her anyway.

Joyce rubbed both of her eyes with her palms and ran her fingers through her hair before sitting up.

“You know, that is, once you finally fell asleep,” he continued, his tone a little gentler now. He’d only known that she hadn’t slept well because he was awake tossing and turning anxiously for most of the night too.

No matter how much she didn’t want to think about it, the annoying ache between her legs was still present and she wondered how her body could be so tuned in to something like _that_ when her mind was completely and utterly obsessed with just making it through these next few hours, days, and maybe weeks, _alive_.

They had no idea exactly how long it was going to take to get Hopper safely out of the prison, but they were prepared with a plan that had taken many, frustrating and painstakingly long, months of infiltration and planning. Murray had even taught her some basic Russian, enough to be able to blend in and comprehend some conversation.

He approached her bed where she still sat, now looking almost as if she were going to be sick. He didn’t see Joyce Byers with a look of nerves very often anymore. In these past few months of planning and detective work, she was just always so determined. She cared so deeply for her family and for Hopper, that as much as he didn’t want to admit it, it softened him and taught him a thing or two about being selfless; Joyce and Hopper were truly the most selfless people Murray had ever met.

“We’re prepared, Joyce,” Murray stressed. He sat down on the edge of her bed next to her. She wanted to give a confident nod, but her nerves won out. She couldn’t pretend this wasn’t dangerous for all of them. She couldn’t pretend that dream that she just woke up from didn’t leave a gaping hole in her chest that threatened to take her down no matter how close to the end they really were. “We’re going to bring him home, alright?” Murray promised again.

This time she managed a slight nod.

They _had_ to bring him home.

I love you couldn’t be left just as something once said in a dream.


End file.
